Winter Promise
by Magus101
Summary: AU: The continuation of The Ties that Bind, Sabretooth deals with the fact that he has feelings. Jubilee deals with the fact that her hero lost face and everyone tries to deal with a crazy feral who sees dead people.
1. Stars Through a Barrel of a Gun

Disclaimer: As always, I do not own Wolverine, Jubilee or Sabretooth. Those characters are Marvels, as for Iggy, I own him. I don't see why anyone would want him though, but I might as well claim him while I still can.

Author's Warning: I've been thinking on how to write this. I hated sequels that you'd have to read the beginning to understand, but after re-reading my own material, there's too many plot points in the first one that'll be covered in this one. I apologize to those who hate being told to read the first part (believe me, I empathize with you all) but it has to be done. The first part is called The Ties that Bind.

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Winter, the time of year when Darwinism comes into full effect. The weak die, covered pound by pound by snow, while the strong barely survive the harsh conditions. Of all beings in this world, Victor Creed knew all too well those ideals. He lived this long by being strong and adaptable to anything that comes his way and, the majority of the time, eventually obliterating those same obstacles; however, he can't destroy the obstacles in his way now.

Snow elegantly fell to the ground like ballerinas on stage. Unfortunately, most of them landed on top the a hulking blonde figure who's claws where hidden in his trench coat pockets and a permanent frown imprinted on his face.

"I hate winter," he muttered to himself he pulled up his coat and walked along the desolate streets, only the sound of honking horns and the damaged lights flickering above kept him company.

Suddenly, he heard the rattling of chains and the cocking of guns. A novice gang tactic that usually would work on any frail to give up his possessions – but he wasn't frail. Knowing the oncoming onslaught he pretended to quicken his pace to lead the attackers on. When he heard a couple of footsteps quicken behind him, he knew that he baited them. He quickly ducked into an alley as he waited for his prey to come. Saliva dripped down his lip, it'd been a while since he got into a good fight and at this moment, he needed to release some steam. He took out his trench coat and put it aside where blood wouldn't get splattered on it.

They came in like a bad production of gangster movie. Greasy hair, cocky smiles, and weapons galore covered the fifteen people advancing towards him.

A woman pointing a sawed off shotgun towards him, "Our employer just wanted you, he didn't mean alive," she pulled the trigger as Sabretooth's body was knocked back into the brick wall.

He coughed up blood as he gave a toothy grin to the shooter, "is that all ya got frail? Seems Logan chose weak bounty hunters ta get me this time," another shot came off as the bullets drove through his body – at the same time it healed with no problems.

While his body took a while to recover, the bounty hunters kept on advancing though. Good, he didn't have to waste a lot of energy, so he'd wait until he saw the glint of greed and bloodlust in their eyes. He dashed forward and got face to face with the woman shooting the sawed off and growled in front of her horrified face before knocking the weapon away to the ground.

She tried to run away, but he got a handful of her hair and threw her against an unsuspecting mook, both of them unconscious.

Suddenly, he felt something stab into his back. Not even wincing, he turned around to see a punk quaking in his boots. Reaching over and taking the knife out of his back and sighed, "ya stabbed me in the muscle, it wouldn't even dent an old broad – next time try ta aim fer tha vital organs – if there is a next time" the punk tried to run – big mistake.

Creed aimed the knife directly at the spot where the punk hit him. He threw the blade and made direct contact – even Bullseye would be jealous of his aim.

"Who's next?" he taunted the twelve there, quivering in their boots. One chick had enough courage to swing her bat towards his face, which he promptly caught with his teeth, chomped down and made instant toothpicks.

"Nice try girlie, but next time yer better off going for a broader, sensitive spot, like here!" Sabretooth punched the girl in the chest, knocking her unconscious. Eleven...wait five stood there with their guns out -- seems like the other six wasn't interested on his bounty.

"Shoot this guy up," one of them announced as they tried to get their guns out, but a simple swipe just knocked all their guns out of their hands.

Sabretooth just waved his fingers at them, "yellin' the obvious ain't gonna get ya anywhere frail, ya should shot me when ya got the chance. He sliced downward at the guy who swore at him. Blood spattered where his mouth was. The others got the idea and left.

The guy sputtered and coughed up blood, "...bastard...we'll –" his sentence was cut short as Sabretooth claws went down on his prey. The guy winced for his death, but it didn't come. Instead he felt something go out of his pants pocket.

"Frail, bringin' a cell phone – rookie crap like this would get ya killed," Sabretooth flipped open the phone and dialed the numbers, "yeah...got some punks injured here...some bleedin' some unconscious...just trace this call..." He dropped the phone down on the guy, "police comin' for ya, better get yer story straight frail." With that he went over to pick up his trench coat and started to leave.

"Ya guys were no match fer me! Good thing I decided ta go easy on ya," he turned his backs on them and went off down the dimly lit street. He noted what wrong the would-be assassins did because he'd have to teach his protégé what not to do.

But first things first...

He walked a couple of blocks as in bold, neon colored lights filled his vision.

"What would the kid like?" he smirked to himself as he went inside 'Toys R' Us.

Now, a part of him worried of his appearance, blood caked onto his trench coat and a little battered and bruised, but this was Christmas Eve and if the couple in front of him was any indication – he fit right in. The murmur of frails surrounded him as he entered the way too bright warehouse like room. They pushed and shoved him on the way in, but they where lucky that he dealt with his bloodlust earlier. He couldn't help but pick up the sounds of quiet panic as he remembered why he hated winter so much...

Christmas was tomorrow...

Now for one Sabretooth, he'd probably be in Barbados banging some chick while plotting to kill his next client – No, not this year though. Things have changed...

A kid bumping into his leg interrupted his thoughts. He looked down and gave a glare that made the snot nose kid running, crying to his mommy. Smirking he went down the isles of this decrepit store.

Action Figures...nope

Bikes...too big

Barbies...Hell no!

Ah, he found the department he needed to get to. The facade of weaponry surrounded him. Plastic guns and fake grenades were to the left of him, while those caps where they explode on contact where to the right of him. Only if he could give his apprentice the real ones? Then he'd be one step closer to making the kid the ruthless killer he knew the kid could be.

But she said no...

He growled internally when he remembered her dissident tone that she gave him. "Nothin' where anyone will get hurt if he used it!" she warned him when she advised him to get the kid a gift for Christmas.

Well, she didn't say get something that can be used for a weapon...if taught correctly. He scratched his chin as he looked further down – there they were.

The "plastic" guns lay in front of him. They were in black casings and if looked from far away with the untrained eye – a person would think it was a real one. If he had the "Desert Eagle" Replica, he'd give it to the kid – but no – that was destroyed.

"Excuse me," a meek man tried to push by him, but Sabretooth blocked his way, "Excuse me," the man stated again as Sabretooth didn't let up.

"Sorry fr--," he didn't need to blow his cover now, "friend," was the only word that would replace 'frail' and he bit down his tongue when he said it and moved out of the way.

The meek man went by but fell flat on his face. Stumbling to get up, Sabretooth helped the guy up, "gotta be careful, ya don't know when I fall like that could kill ya," Sabretooth gave that famous toothy grin as the man mumbled something and went on his way.

Sabretooth continued looking at the items in front of him. Finally, he decided on something that looked like a magnum and went to pay for it. In his hand, he opened up a wallet.

"Turd Ferguson...that's the frails name, at least he got dough," Sabretooth took a couple of twenties from the wallet and saw Turd in front of him. Sabretooth purposely bumped into him, putting back the wallet. He hated this subtle crap! If he had it his way, he'd tear Turd a new hole, in various places – just to hear him scream. Yet he didn't want the attention in this crowded area.

It'd be bad if someone caught him Christmas Eve.

He went up to the counter where the line lasted forever. In front of him was someone trying to shoplift and now someone behind him came up with a crying baby.  
A vein was about to pop in Sabretooth's brain. All this crap dealing with frails just to get this one gift. He popped his claws in and out in his trench coat, while the other hand held the gift. When he heard the sound of the crying baby cease, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Suddenly, he felt the cart behind him on his back. His eyes went wide as he turned around and instinctually growled at the person who bumped into.

Turd Fergson...With gifts that filled up the cart and a look that said, 'Sorry don't kill me,' and Sabretooth wasn't going to comply.

"Next!" he heard a cranky voice yell when he was about to tear the throat of this guy. Sabretooth quickly went up and gave the item. The pimply faced clerk priced it through.

"35.72," the kid gave the price as Sabretooth growled, he would've got a couple of "real" guns on the black market with that price. He forked over the cash and just took the 'fake' gun without having it packaged.

As he was leaving the store, he heard Turd ruffling through his wallet, "Oh no! Not now," Turd exclaimed. At least that was the bright spot to Sabretooth's shopping experience.

Walking down the street, the sound of snow being crunched beneath his steel-toe boots couldn't help but notice blood caking into his fur and it started to annoy him, but not as annoying as the long, long trek back to the hospital. He'd have to shoot that guy that gave him the bad directions or help him out. He didn't have so much fun as he did tonight.

...And he needed it.

The snow started to lightly fall again as he treaded across the slick concrete with his boots. Though he took one more step and he felt his balance collapse beneath him. He slipped and fell hard on his butt, but he grasped onto the package like it was a bomb. Wincing, he slowly got up. The superficial pain didn't bother him, but rather the thing he'd become. The skillful and best assassin out there could go toe to toe with the runt; yet, when it came to a slippery slope – he fell on his ass. Growling as he mumbled swear words he looked around to make sure that no one saw what just happened. Luckily, no frail was around. He sneered at the situation as he continued to go forward.

"Ain't that cute, Creed. Ya fell on yer butt and got a boo boo," he heard an annoying feminine voice taunt him. He growled and turned around to see no one there. He stopped sniffed the air, just the familiar smell tires and grime filled his nostrils.

No one was there...

Snarling at the air, he knew that he wasn't alone, "Ain't funny," he yelled out into the void. The snowflake that landed on his face was his only reply.  
Huffing in anger, he just continued walking. The hospital was still a long way off and visiting hours would be a bitch to get through.

Did his mind just comprehend what he said in his head?

Victor Creed, rushing to go to the hospital so he could get in at visiting hours. First, he fell on his ass on the snow, and now he wanted to comply with the law. Laws – he broke them over and over again. This compliance thing grated his nerves.

It had to be done though and he cursed himself for his luck. Why couldn't he keep his reputation and keep this new feeling he felt when he saw the kid?

Because assassin's ain't supposed ta feel he reminded himself. He once again clutched the package in his hand. The kid meant nothing to him. He tagged along and he couldn't kill the brat. After all this, he'd kill the brat first chance he got or use him as a tool to get what he needed. At least that's what he repeated to himself.  
Wrapped up into himself, Creed didn't even see the lights and hear the whir of machinery until a huge bus stopped right next to him. He looked and saw he stood next to a bus stop. He looked at the destination, Eerie General Hospital.

The doors swung open and in the driver seat sat a man in a Santa suit and the fakest beard ever -- oh, how Creed loathed Christmas at this moment.

"Getting in?" the man questioned, the beard nearly falling off, "not going to charge you -- Christmas Eve and all...Ho, ho ho!"

Staring in disbelief, Creed just took a step back, "No," he snapped quickly as he started walking away. He didn't need to be in a bus with a freak driver being overly cheery.

"No I insist," the annoyingly jolly man followed him on the bus.

Creed just about had it – he didn't need to deal with another jerk tonight.

"Look frail, I ain't goin' ta take yer free ride! So why dontcha go drive tha bus off a cliff and do everyone a favor by screamin' before ya die – that way, they could sing carols at yer grave," he snipped as he had to see the reaction to this one. He turned to see a rifle pointed to his face by the guy in the Santa suit.

"C'mon, I'd like to turn you in tonight," the jolly being moved his head like he was motioning to the back of the bus. Creed looked and saw that, other people in elf costumes held rifles outside the window, "it's only 9:03 – still time to make it, if you comply,"

Creed looked at the circumstances and started to laugh out loud, "Ya think Santa and a bunch of his cronies can take me – I'd rip yer heads off and give 'em ta children for – ," he tried to intimidate, but the shot through his chest told him that his intimidating skills weren't working. Instantaneously, he hopped into the shadows of the alley, still holding on to the toy gun. He looked around quickly for a way to escape as the shots flew past him and some of them hitting him. He found a ladder that led up to the roof of a red brick building and started climbing. Through the shots, the redundant screams of 'get him' and the sounds of his boots having that eerie sound of metal on the bottom and toes squishing with blood on the inside – he felt oddly familiar with something he thought he lost.

When he got to the top, he took in a breath and surveyed the cloudy night sky – beautiful. Now only if he could get away from those goons that where following him. He heard the footsteps coming up to greet him. He peered over only to take a bullet to the head. That would've hurt, okay it hurt a little, he liked having an adamantium skeletal structure.

He used his strength to push off the rusty metallic ladder, he tried to hold down his laughter as he saw the goons in elf costumes and the man in a Santa suit try to regain balance. Too bad for them that the ladder creaked of it's hinges and started to fall down towards the hard slick icy ground. Victor turned around and waited to hear that satisfying crunch sound and moaning. He didn't go back on his deal, they'd be alive from a fall like that, some of them more mobile than others, but alive.

He couldn't hold back his laughter anymore as a sharp gruff exhalation of suppressed completeness rang out loud to the night sky. Holding the plastic gun close to him, he rolled on the top of the roof laughing at the very thought of him almost killing 'Santa'. That's when he noticed a clear patch amongst the heavy clouds. He simmered down and looked at the stars beyond. How many times did he ignore them only to see them now? The guy said 9:03 and he hoped the hospital would have an exemption for him since it was Christmas Eve. A door led to the exit of the building, but if he went that way he would probably be seen by someone and as is, blood and guts wasn't conductive for Christmas cheer.

He looked over to the other rooftop, to him, the distance wasn't that far. Webhead could easily do it and he's better than that spider hero. So he readied himself and ran. Unfortunately, he didn't factor in the slick roof or the fact that he was wearing boots. He pushed forward though as he got to the edge and leapt. He saw people flailing their arms in the air in order to gain more distance, and he wasn't any different. He was going to make it, and much to his own amazement he made it. He laughed at his own accomplishments until the roof caved in on him. Damn his adamantium skeletal structure making him heavy!

Floor after floor after floor after floor, he felt his back being torn open as he felt the impact of solid ground. Oh joy to the world! He felt his wounds being stitched up beautifully as he had some ability to get up and dust himself up. The trench coat he wore had a nice tint of red along with his pants. He growled a bit as he had to take a piece of floor out of his stomach.

Good news though, he landed where a door was and he looked outside and it no one was there. Quickly he got to the door and broke it open. Suddenly, the alarm went off and all he could do is roll his eyes as he went out the door.

He didn't run, a good jog would suffice as he saw the hospital only a couple of blocks away. Now this made him have a huge grin as he quickened his pace. He felt no one around him and he could go at this pace and it didn't hurt as much. As he got to the parking lot, he saw the street lights go off in front of him. No problem, he could see in the darkness pretty well. He got to the sliding doors and they would not open.

Rage opened up within him and he felt like tearing this forsaken hospital apart. He growled out loud as a twitch came to his eye and a fist was going to ram through the door but they opened up. Bewildered, he didn't question what happened as he took a step inside, only to have someone pass him quickly and head towards the bathroom.

How'd he know? He'd been here too long to not know the layout of this place. He'd been a regular here for the past couple of weeks waiting for the boy to recover and now…of all days…maybe he'd be awake. He walked past the secretary who tried not to look at him, past the next couple of rooms that held no significance to him.

That's when he got to the room where the boy stayed. He took a deep breath and opened the door. The scent of the boy wasn't there, the place was too sterile. The Christmas decorations he helped put up where still there, that meant he had the right room. He hastily looked around to see the bed cleaned up and empty.

"Where!" he started to scream out but she appeared in front of him. She wore her ever present yellow trench coat, pink shirt, jean shorts, sunglasses and a frown. Her crossed arms didn't seem like a good thing, "What happened! Where –,"

"You're too late," she stated flatly as any momentum he had halted. Too late? How could he be too late, he just saw the boy a couple of hours ago and he was fine – unless. He heard the sound of plastic cracking as he felt the plastic gun almost crack up a bit.

"Too late," an angry whisper escaped Sabretooth's lips as he sat down on the bed with a gaze that looked nowhere.

"Yeah, they had to move him in order to clean up the room, you pay them to clean the room everyday remember? Geez your so forgetful, and what's with that face like you went through hell and –," this is when her words started to blur out to his hazy laziness. He leaned back on the bed that he made himself home to those weeks, took off his blood stained boots and torn up jacket.

"Do ya know how ta wrap a gift," he interjected whatever she said as he placed the plastic gun on top the table next to him, "do it fer me, I'm tired," he closed his eyes to feel what would eventually come.


	2. Compromise

The sensation of warmth and the scene of fuzzy pink fleshy wallpaper, a place where he wanted to be. For that whole time of looking for a single gift, dealing with idiots and being shot at from different angles and places, he deserved this little break from reality. Besides, they never taught gift-wrapping at assassin school. Right on queue, the image appeared in front of him like a drive in Movie Theater and he couldn't help but wonder what'd he find out today. Would he see a dramatic scene where the desperate heroine would weep bitter tears? Would he see a comedic scene where the heroine would fall flat on her face in the most asinine situation? Either way, he came out of it a little more enlightened and/or entertained.

She appeared – this short black haired slant eyed Chinese American. She wore hoop earrings that stated her name 'Jubilee,' huge gaudy pink visors covered her forehead, a pink shirt lay underneath a bright yellow trench coat as she wore jean shorts. Her appearance wasn't unusual to him; she's the heroine in everything he saw. Now what would be the scenario this time?

She stared straight ahead at the reflection in the pool of ice-slicked water as a smile twisted up to her ears. This gesture made him feel uncomfortable a bit but, as always, he couldn't turn away.

"Today would be a good day," her sarcastic tone filled his ears as the reflection in the pool past away and the scene became of snow covered trees. He knew the scenes before him came through her ability to see. Through her eyes he saw her go down the slippery path. Through her ears he heard the crunching of snow beneath those blue galoshes she wore. Through both senses he knew what would happen next. Her balance slipped up a bit before an eerie silence occurred before the sound of her crashing on her back and the dizzying scene of the clear night sky appeared to him.

She started laughing and he started laughing, both for various reasons. He thought the scene brought irony to what happened to him earlier. As for her, well he didn't care why she started to laugh, but it looked like he would have time to ask her as his surroundings turned black and that familiar warmth started to fade – reality started to set in.

Then his mind focused along with his eyes to see her in front of him, or rather a translucent version of her in front of a nicely wrapped gift.

The very woman he saw, he killed only a few months back as a vendetta to his old 'friend' Wolverine. Now her ghost stood in front of her 'haunting him' as she puts it. The truth of the matter is that she couldn't leave a certain distance away from him and he couldn't either.

That's one drawback to the whole situation. Another one though, along with the fact that she annoyed him, was her ability to control his body at any time. When this happens, the previous scene occurs but he saw much of her past. With her though she gets to control his body and see some of his past as well – a mutual drawback.

Of course, he wanted this annoyance to end, but how does one deal with the dead when one has no experience with it before except for the killing aspect. Previously, Sabretooth's only concern would be to kill and forget about it. He lived as a mercenary for governments and terrorist groups; however, all that meant nothing and he didn't know where to begin.

That's all he wanted, a lead to get him in the right direction, but, no, his past came up to haunt him (no pun intended) or rather try to assassinate him leaving him no time to actually plan anything – even to this very moment.

"Well ain't ya goin' to tell me how well I done," her high-pitched voice entered his eardrums and registered into his already pounding head.

"It ain't crappy lookin' I tell ya that," he retorted back. If she tried to fish for some compliments, she knew that she wouldn't get any.

"Really a plastic gun for Iggy, I mean –," she started to go on her ever going tirade on how the boy should be treated and he didn't want to put up with it.

"When he gets better it'd make him use ta tha idea of getting' shot at!" he yelled back to interrupt her. She stayed silent for a second and for that split second he had the duality of the grim satisfaction of winning and the grim dissatisfaction of her contemplating a retort.

They argued for the past couple of weeks about the 'Iggy' in question. On the way of trying to find a way to separate each other, they found a live mummified boy in the back seat of a pedophile's car. She didn't want to leave him and he complied with the knowledge that he could annoy her by using him – he deserved the opportunity. As time passed, he decided the best way to annoy her was to make him the antithesis of what she stood for, an assassin like him.

However, he was taken away from the boy for some time and when he met him the next time, Iggy hung on a meat hook like a slaughtered animal by his old 'friend' Wolverine and a fake 'Jubilee.' Something triggered deep inside him and he rushed the boy over to the hospital, 'saving' him – sort of.

During the last couple of weeks, the boy stayed in a coma. He lost a lot of blood and lost oxygen to the brain. Even though Sabretooth provided his healing factor blood to the boy – the boy stayed ever quiet and still within the white covered sheets. That first realization of the boy's state, Jubilee decided that she wouldn't leave the boy. Sabretooth decided to go along with whatever she wanted. He could still use the boy to take advantage at the shaken specter of Jubilee and he made sure that he would keep an eye on the boy and he found a way in a most capitalistic venture.

On his excursion of this city, he found that the meat locker where he and his old 'friend' Wolverine fought and became surprised to notice no new scents and tracks where there. He decided to investigate further. Inside, no signs of his previous employer (or rather diligent and sadistic 'caretaker') Torque or as Jubilee knew him Jono where there. He's the one (along with the newly reformed Weapon X) that took him away from the mess making the specter Jubilee have to take care of the boy. He's glad that Wolverine dealt with him, but he'd be more pleased if he found a body. He checked this place around and instead of a body he found out his old 'friend' Wolverine left ten million dollars in a brief case in the middle of that damned meat locker.

Of course he took the money and didn't question why it was still there. Besides this would be chump change to his old 'friend' since he works for a school that capitalizes on mutants being 'special.' He also used this as a bargaining chip at the hospital. The one things he learned about human, living this long of course, is that every human as his or her own price and surprise surprise a ten million dollar 'donation' makes people want to be your best friend. So the personal had no problem to set up a bed for him and they looked over the fact of him yelling, laughing, and talking to the specter Jubilee when they couldn't see her.

He didn't do this because he didn't want to leave his protégé behind. It's not like he cared. He killed that emotion a long time ago.

"Right," she interrupted his thoughts with a sullen voice, right where he wanted her, "he's not getting better you know, but he's not getting worse and –,"

"Ya sayin' my blood ain't enough ta save him! Yer precious runts blood able ta save him!" He wouldn't hear of her pessimistic attitude. The boy will get better by his own blood and he'll use the boy as a tool to keep her in control long enough to get rid of her. He must've touched a nerve, as she didn't respond with her famous witty retort. She looked outside the window in a glazed sort of look.

She always got that way now. When he tried to bring up the topic of her past mentor or when he tried to bring up the topic of the 'fake' Jubilee, she'd just shut up and look out the window without saying a word. At first, he let it slide and they'd be silent for hours. Then that's when he started to doubt if she was really there like that time he was away from them, that's why he let her take over her body now and then – just to make sure that she was real (and not for the fact he liked it which he doesn't). For trivial things, cigarette breaks, television shows, and even a chance to touch Iggy he gave her permission to take over his body even though they made a contract to never do so again.

Reluctantly, she took the offer and now they talk about what they see in each other's mind afterwards – a sort of compromise to the deal. Speaking of…

He started laughing out loud and suddenly she turned around with certain attentiveness, "what Creed?" she asked as he continued to laugh out loud as she crossed her arms.

"Little Miss. Gymnast fell on her ass! What, did ya get a boo boo that time? Cry home to mommy?" he egged her own with his own wit as he layback on the sterile hospital bed and hugged his stomach. He learned a lot about her during the recent times she took over his body. A stereotypical smart Asian child who, along with the forceful support of her parents, excelled in gymnastics.

She had a disbelieving grin on her face as she shook her head, "well at least I didn't get shot up by a Santa Clause impersonator," she stated as his laughter died down a bit and she started to walk towards him like she shrunk a bit, "Creed, yer naughty here's yer eighty-billionth coal," she started to laugh as he sat up on the bed. One thing he knew from her possessions of him is that she saw him doing recent things – peeing in the toilet, watching porn whatever he did recently and he hoped it'd be like that for a while.

"I ain't got no coal fer Christmas, always a nice firm piece o' ass did fine for me or a good killin' spree – both on a good Christmas," he gave her a toothy grin with his response as her laughter died down as well as she placed a rather firm stance like one of a school teacher informing him on a lesson.

"This year's different Creed, no killin' and doin' fer ya," she retorted back as she shook her index finger at him.

"Well ain't no presents fer ya either," he came back as they stared each other down with a deadly glare. Times like these he knew what he had was the real Jubilee and she wasn't a figment of his imagination. Only Jubilee would have the ability to look him dead in the eye in an argument. Besides, if his mind made a fantasy Jubilee, she'd be far more compliant than the truth.

She turned away first, meaning he's the victor. He leaned back and reached for the remote control, wherever he put it. The hospital bed lifted his legs up a bit, no, that wasn't the remote and that was his only option. He started to growl a bit trying to find the damn remote.

"Top shelf, left of ya –,"

"I didn't ask fer yer help!" he lashed out at her, making her give him an unabashed angry glare.

"Ya can say thank you!" she yelled back at him.

He guffawed as he clicked for any channel. No he didn't want to see It's a Wonderful Life for the hundredth time. He flipped the channels to notice snow appear on most of them. Ooh, he found a good channel, wrestling – he made a comment about how he didn't like these g-string wearing pansies, but now he started to understand why wrestling was so good. Violence, even though staged, became a useful entertainment tool for him during these past couple of weeks. How can one not find putting a guy through a flaming table not entertaining?

One muscle guy was about to clothesline another muscle guy when "Special Bulletin" interrupted the match and appeared on the screen. He groaned as he saw the familiar news lady appear with a microphone and composed look as destruction wallpapered behind her.

This is Lisa Kim reporting at the actual site of where a terrorist attack happened 

A terrorist attack, now this would be interesting. He turned up the volume and leaned back.

_The reorganized group called the Friends of Humanity –_

Yeah, he heard about them when he first turned on the television here. Seems like his dead son's group has revived itself and tries to help mutants by "curing" them. A tinge of him didn't care about what was going on with that group, but a part of him became angered by this resurrection. So he just pushed those feelings below and tried to go on with the bulletin above.

_Had its headquarters ripped apart into by two rather unknown –._

Well that was a first, not really. A group of mutants want to destroy public property are terrorists, but a group of normal humans trying to destroy mutants are saviors – how he loathed humans and their politics.

_Here we have actual footage of the attack going on inside_.

As the color version of Lisa Kim started to fade away, he couldn't help but see who went against Xavier's teachings. He had a smirk implanted on his face as the list of names went by his head, but all if it changed when he saw two familiar figures destroying files or rather slashing and exploding files. Yup, his old 'friend' Wolverine started slashing away, a bit healthy in his own opinion.

"Turn it off," a low whisper from the side of the room, but why should he go along with it? His rival Wolverine kept slashing away as 'Jubilee' kept exploding things and having a euphoric look on her face. Yup, that Jubilee was an imposter. Shredded paper flew up in the air and fell to the ground like cherry blossoms on a warm spring day as the lovers embraced.

"Turn it off!" the low whisper turned a bit violent as he became captivated by the scene. His claws retracted as he embraced her and his face slowly edging towards hers. Her leg lift up and straddling next to his body as her hands went through his hair. Their faces slowly met together and their lips crushed hard as he grabbed her hair, letting his lips travel –

"TURN IT OFF!" the violent woman yelled in anger as he just ignored it as that horrific yet interesting scene ended and the newscaster came back on, but he saw what he needed to see and turned off the television screen.

"Why git angry at somethin' not in yer control?" he asked with poking some fun at the specter. What he said was true – why worry about a body that didn't belong to her? She should be paying attention to the current state of affairs.

" 'Cause, He's –,"

"So yer worried about the runt, huh?" He hated this aspect about her. Loyalty, they like to call it, but that word covers the truth of the emotion of lazy submission, "he's fine! Did ya forget what he did ta the boy or are ya gonna keep forgivin' him!" that's when he smelled the queasy sterile scent and hard footsteps. He turned his direction towards the door as a simple pounding occurred on it.

"What!" he yelled at the door as no one tried to come it.

"Sir, you might want to visit Iggy before –," a muffled voice became interrupted by a deep growl.

"Don't tell me what I can or can't do! I'll visit him when I damn feel like it," he yelled back as he headed towards the door opening it, showing a scared woman cringing and walking backwards, "got it," he chomped down on his adamantium teeth and she got the point and went away quickly. He looked at the specter that stood there with her hips on her side.

"Ya shouldn't scare 'em like that, they might just tell on you," She warned him as he leered at her before he walked towards the wrapped gift, picking it up gently and holding it.

"Yer coming or are ya gonna weep here for yer Wolvie!" that's as nice as he was going to put it as he walked out the door closing it shut. He looked back to see she wasn't coming. He took a few steps forward then look back again to see her form phase through the door. He walked only a short distance from the room to the area they put the boy when they wanted to do further tests on him.

He looked through the window to see the blonde boy tied and bound to the bed by plastic tubes connected to fancy mechanical pieces. These where the things that kept the boy alive and how did Sabretooth loathe it. He would be enough to save the boy with his blood, though it would take time and proving a point doesn't have a set schedule. From the corner of his eye she saw him gazing upon his fallen form.

He walked to the side and opened the door. A gentle wind of Iggy's smell and plastic rushed his senses before he closed the door behind him. He didn't know what to say or do – like always.

"He'll be fine in time for Christmas," she stated with almost a chocked sob, as he didn't have anything to say to her and he placed the gift on top the legs of him.

No matter what day it was, he ended up doing the same thing when he saw the boy in a pathetic state – the only thing he could do. He grabbed a chair and drug it loudly next to the boy, sat down, stared and wonder if now would be the time he would wake up.


	3. Non Descript

Waking up, he noted the smell of disinfectant, the color white all around him and the beating of a steady heart monitor – these where the same indications that entered his senses everyday for the last couple of weeks. He stretched out and with his crust filled eyes he glanced at the neatly wrapped present still placed on the legs of the kid. He stifled a sneer of exasperation as he got up and automatically went to the bathroom. He felt the blood from last night stick to his body. Usually, he'd enjoy it for quite a while, but he'd been trying to keep a rather low profile; so, after doing his business he stretched in front of the mirror above the sink. He noticed a beard grew out and the last time he checked he only had stubble. Rubbing his newly formed beard he felt the grumbling in his stomach.

He didn't eat last night and now that came back up to disturb him. He burped loud as he opened the door to notice a nurse prepping the boy and about to move the present.

"What'rya doin'?" he screamed out as the young woman's fingers twitched brushing the box to the ground. Jubilee's words ran through his mind as he shook his head and walked up towards the gift and then grabbed it, "listen' I 'donated' fer this stinkin' hospital to move him, not ta touch anything else, understand – now get back ta work," he ordered as she hastily checked the various monitors. This situation became a regular routine he'd been through for weeks, now the boy would be moved, tested and monitored to the newly cleaned room – leaving him approximately forty five minutes to do whatever; however, his stomach tugged him to eat and he figured that's what he had to do next as he exited the room, leaving the shaken nurse to take care of the boy.

When he exited the room, the subtle display of a small porcelain Santa Clause didn't escape his vision and that's when he remembered what day it was today – Christmas morning. He walked with his eyes towards the ground and shook his head reaching the elevator. A few floors below, the hospital cafeteria became his gourmet pleasures. He arrived to find he was the first one there – or maybe the only one there. Who'd want to hang out at a hospital cafeteria Christmas morning? Although festive with the glossy red and green paper on the walls, the big male cafeteria worker with gray hairs sticking out of a hair net that barely fit him didn't look too festive at all.

"Mr. Creed, the usual this morning?" the man tried to sound pleasant enough, but he could smell the reluctance of the man and the regret in his voice.

"Ya don't mess up, today's a holiday," Creed commanded with a mocking tone as the cafeteria worker moved quickly towards the backroom. Creed looked around, she hadn't shown up yet. She probably wanted to make sure about her precious Iggy's safety during the moving process. He tried to stifle a growl of discontentment, but that came out when the cafeteria worker came with his steak and eggs. Creed just took the elongated brown plastic tray and felt the anger of the other, not like the cafeteria worker could do anything to him – he could rip of that smile off the others face in a heartbeat.

His stomach commanded him to do something otherwise and so he wanted to eat. He turned his back towards the glowering worker and passed through the rows and rows of empty white sterile benches and decided to go to the edge of the cafeteria near the elevator. He sniffed the steak and eggs a bit and smelled a little bit of spit in it. He glanced over at the worker to see the other looking expectantly. Merry Christmas, your life is your gift! He sneered internally as he dug into the steaks.

"You really should tell him that you don't want to eat food he spat on," her voice wafted in the air as her transparent form appeared across from him from above. He just glared at her and continued to eat. She put her hands in the air, "what? I'm just sayin' that's kind of gross," she shivered a bit. His glare turned into a deadpan look as he ate with his mouth open.

"Ain't tha one that stole cups from a garbage can and used 'em fer refills," he commented with pieces of meat and juice still inside his mouth as he continued to eat.

"Hey!" she retorted back as he waited for her to come up with some witty remark; yet, none came – another point for him. She placed her elbows on the table and leaned her head in her hands as she stared at him eat. If she wanted a show, he'd give her one as he opened his mouth after every chew showing her every piece of ripped flesh. She turned right away and said something that was so low that even his hearing couldn't hear it (of course the sound of him loudly chewing interfered as well).

"What!" he yelled out not caring who'd hear him as he gobbled down the last of the steak.

She turned to him and looked him straight in the eye, "We should go to town," she sighed as though she resigned the idea before she started, "forget it."

Whoa…whoa – during this whole ordeal the specter Jubilee never left the hospital and always hung around the boy, "No, you want ta go ta town fer somethin' – it's Christmas ain't it – why would ya want ta go ta town fer that?" he bluntly asked trying to probe further of the person of Jubilee.

"I said ferget it!" she reverted back to talking like him she crossed her arms and looked away, "there ain't nothin' ta do at town anyway!" she tried to reason herself out of it. No, he wouldn't have it. She wanted to go to town enough to exploit it as a weakness and he wanted to know why.

"Are ya that interested at stayin' here and watchin' tha boy sleep and me scratch myself in places?" he gave her a smug look as she looked disgusted and she rolled her eyes.

"You really need to get over yourself," she sighed out as she sounded like herself again, "I just wanted to go town to get away for a bit, that's all."

So her devotion to the boy started to wane – very interesting. He could use that to his advantage as he stood up and looked around, "then get away fer a bit, no one stoppin' ya," he flicked the heavy plastic tray towards a certain destination as a thud could be heard and a body fall to the floor. He said that he wouldn't take the guys life, but he would take the guys dignity.

She looked back with a little disbelief but came back to the familiarity of the conversation and audibly sighed, "but Iggy…" the last word waned a little bit. This would be his opening to go in for the kill.

"Tha boy is bein' transferred ta a different room – they'd take thirty minutes ta set up, town is fifteen minutes away, five if I run," he gave her the option as he made sure the gift stayed within the pocket and started to head towards the elevator, "ya wanna go ta town, so let's go."

His 'kindness' got peculiar looks from Jubilee as she floated near him, "You're planning something, I know it," she furrowed her brows as the elevator door rang. The metallic doors opened slowly as Creed got inside.

"Well that mean ya got ta keep an eye on me then and I got a feelin' I want ta go ta town," he gave her a conclusion that she couldn't refuse. The doors closed as she phased through them and stood next to him. She clearly didn't like to be put in the spot she crossed her arms and sighed.

"Fine, and it's not like ten minutes will kill me," she left herself wide open with that comment.

"Well yer already dead, so that ain't a problem!" he quickly gave the response as the doors opened and she gave that familiar finger to him. He just guffawed slightly as he went to the head station where a nurse was on the phone, "I'm goin' out – be back in a half n' hour – make sure tha boy is taken good care of," he ordered in gruff terms, but the nurse just nodded as she continued on the phone. He liked the old bat, she put up with his garbage more than the other nurses; however, this didn't mean he'd change his attitude as he growled and walked away to the room to place the present back and started back to the elevator from the watchful eye of that old crone of a nurse.

"She's the only one that deals with your 'tude," she stated the obvious next to him as the elevator went to ground level. He decided not to respond to that as the elevator door opened and the translucent doorway showed a light snowfall. He walked slowly as he made sure that his new trench coat covered him quite nicely. Her form then stepped in front of him, this didn't make him stop however, "so we're going by foot after Iggy gets better? This ain't very good weather," she asked as though he had the answers.

He jaw clenched a bit when the question came up. Months and months of being tied down to this specter and the boy made him feel obsolete. When he saw the video of the runt tearing up some anti-mutant headquarters, a huge part of him wished he could be doing that right now and gain some notoriety; yet, this wasn't the part that made him feel obsolete – the unexplainable other part that made him quite comfortable where he's at made him obsolete.

His train of thought quickly changed to the question at hand and truthfully, he didn't know what to do after Iggy got better. All his contacts would probably turn on him since the bounty placed on his head became vastly profitable; therefore, the main routes would all be checked out at. In any case, he didn't want to make a big deal of the traveling arrangements – they could always steal a car if need be (like before), "what's tha point of goin somewhere if ya don't know how ta get rid of yerself?" he told as he exited out of the warm hospital and to the cool morning air.

"Hey you're the one that has the contacts, I thought all your years of living would bring you to someone that knew how to deal with this sort a situation," she fought back as he continued to walk. Everyday since they came to this situation they'd discuss how to get rid of each other and yet they didn't know how, but this didn't mean he didn't try to find ways. With the spare time he had though he tried rather rudimentary methods into finding an answer. He tried an old far away public library but that lead had no books on the subject and had no Internet access and so he decided to move on. He tried to hack into the computers in the hospital to get internet access and found that it surprisingly had none. He did find transcriptions of doctor's reports about Iggy stating of 'no progress' and 'no hope' which he dismissed. That'd leave him to only ask her and scenario would always be the same. One would blame the other and it got them nowhere.

"Look we'll figure out something later," she sighed out interrupting his thoughts as he shrugged and started to run.

Eerie wasn't a Podunk town in the middle of nowhere nor was it a busy metropolis. Eerie had its Sears amongst the old malt shop across the corner and for Victor Creed, he passed by these places with little interest – only checking out the strip club with it's flabby and toothless strippers (he eventually thought it not worth it and stopped going there as well). He treaded these sidewalks hundreds of times and remembered when the folks around here put up the gaudy and obvious Christmas ornaments which now filled the streets instead of people. He then looked at the specter next to him who had a mixture of wide eye bewilderment and twisted lip of pushed away angst. He just put his hands in the back of his head and stared in front of him, "it ain't all that," he looked at the car passing by him and found that more interesting than her reaction.

"Yeah, Christmas at the mansion was far more better," her usage of grammatical inaccuracy made him roll his eyes.

"Ain't mor' better, it's better," he corrected her as that got a rise out of her.

"Ya 'ain't' one ta talk," her tone slowed down a bit before they got to a familiar scene with him. The lanky dude with red, pink and green bangs covering his eyes strained to bring out plastic garbage bag out to the curb. Creed looked inside to find that familiar whole in the ceiling still there and looked at the displays on the window, books of weird things like 'Wicca' or 'Ectosensorism'.

"Dude, why didn't you tell me about this place earlier?" She floated closer towards the window and looked at the books closely.

The lanky guy went back inside and turned the sign to 'closed' as through the glass, he kept on cleaning. Creed looked a bit annoyed with her attitude, "what yer yappin' bout not tellin' ya bout this place?" He passed by this place hundreds of times and saw the same damn books in the display. First of all, he didn't know what the hell 'Wicca' or 'Ectosensorism' was, secondly he didn't have time to read (when he had a perfectly fine television), and thirdly, if he decided to read something he'd read better crap than something he didn't know about.

He then saw her go through the window glass and check around the interior of the store. She didn't take long until she came back and looked at him with they type of hopeful look he disliked and liked.

"You have to get in there, this could be the ticket of getting me separated from you and –,"

That's all he had to hear when his boot conveniently found the door, kicking it down as the lanky guy took steps back, "Huh?" he ducked behind the counter quickly.

"Smooth, Creed, smooth," she chided him. This was her fault, getting him all riled up like that, this is what he wanted for the longest time. The unfortunate problem shivered in front of him scared of his presence.

"The police said t-this would h-happen, b-back t-to the scene of t-the c-crime," the clerk stuttered as he went over to the phone. Fortunately for Creed, his speed knocked the phone away and shattered it to the ground as he quickly shoved the multi-colored lanky guy against the wall.

"Look, ya know of that supernatural stuff and I got a supernatural problem, we could do this tha hard way," Creed then brought up his fist next to the guys face, "or tha _hard_ way."

"I j-just s-sell t-the b-books, I d-don't know –," the clerk started to jabber as Creed let go of him. The guy lied he smelled it and also why would he have a store with only this as the merchandise. He took in a deep breath as he had to regroup and figure out something else because scaring the crap out of him wouldn't help him much.

"Well stock boy, tell me where tha books on dealin' with ghosts an' stuff are an' pronto!" Creed looked at where the shaky boy pointed and started to walk towards that direction but realized that the boy could push a button and his cover would be blown. He then looked at the specter flying off towards that direction and he shook his head. Turning around suddenly, he quickly grabbed the guy by the collar and brought him face-to-face, "yer goin' ta help me look for somethin'." This served as two purposes: speedy answers and regulation.

So when he walked down the aisle he noted the various weirdness next to him. Witchcraft, Sorcery, Curses, and Voodoo weren't his thing, but if one of these book had the answers to their solution then it would be worth looking up.

"H-here's the a-area," the guy stated as Creed let go and the guy landed with a thud. Supernatural for Dummies and So You're Being Haunted! Where two of the awfully titled books within the vicinity. What a crappy lead, but a lead was a lead and so he had some work to do.

"Yer goin' ta look up what ta do if a specter is followin' ya around and ya don't want it ta follow ya no more," He gave specific instructions as his words perked a little interest in the clerk.

"You or –,"

"It ain't any of yer business," he growled back as he flipped through pages of some of the books. All this didn't make sense to him – ectoplasmic indifference and paraelectrical discharge – who comes up with these words?

"W-well it does, if this specter haunts a place the s-specter is stuck h-haunting the place," the guy twitched a bit before going on keeping a weary eye on Creed, "but if the s-specter h-haunts a person, then the s-specter is s-stuck with that person," he concluded and Creed knew this already, but kept an eye on the book he had and the other on the guy talking.

"What'd this 'person' haveta do in order ta get rid of a specter," he asked trying to sound indifferent as he sifted through the book.

"W-well t-theories have been made, since a specter haunting a p-person is rare," the clerk told him and he cursed his luck. Creed looked at the specter looking over the clerks shoulder at what he was reading, "in here, they say a specter can't never get rid of –," Creed then knocked the book out of the clerks hand.

"Not tha answer I want!" he warned as he looked through the pages of the same book once again. The clerk shakily reached out for another book as the specter Jubilee glared a bit at Creed.

"What?" Creed gave her glare right back at her.

"What?" The clerk stopped perusing through pages and looked up at the blonde feral. Creed just sighed and shook his head and went to the same page of the same book reading the same damn paragraph. "Found anything not stupid?" Creed asked after a few moments of silence. His voice made the others finger slip down a page as he cleared his throat.

"U-uh this one is more of the same but y-you h-have to go t-to c-church and g-get an o-old priest and a n-new priest –," the clerk read off the page but Creed rolled his eyes to the reference and he had to growl at him to stop. If he wanted jokes he'd go to that horrible joke store down Main Street. He looked over again at the page and his eyes started to lose focus. He shook his head, "get another one and tell me what in it now!" he ordered as the guy went off to get another book and looked for lines so quickly that the guys head shook like a cell-phone vibrating.

"A S-spiritual R-ritual with a S-spiritual D-dance," the guy said two words that combined equaled disaster. He closed his eyes as he heard her laughter on the situation from the specter and when he opened his eyes he saw her hand above her head and her hip accentuated towards the outside. This made him perk an eyebrow a bit.

"Dance like an Egyptian," she started to move on her own as she bobbed her head to the invisible music.

Creed growled as the reference to the eighties made him twitch a bit. He had to deal with that early on and he thought he got rid of it, but now he had to figure out a way to kill this one quick. Nostalgia wasn't a good thing, but if he had to reach that far, "It's 'Walk like n' Egyptian'" he corrected her and she became astonished by his knowledge.

"How d-did you know the r-ritual w-was Eg-gyptian?" the guy asked as he focused on the page. Creed just sneered as he gave the look and the clerk dropped the book he had and looked for another.

So once again he looked back at the same damn book with the same damn page and the same damn paragraph. He scratched his head in anger, "tell me another stock boy," he practically shouted out.

"T-this one s-states that a s-specter c-can only b-be f-freed by 'r-resolution and absolution'," the clerk stated slowly as though every word could be a detonator to a bomb. Creed took the sentence in and looked at the specter floating above and reading the same book as the clerks. She twisted her lips and her eyes went upwards as though she had to think about what needed to be resolved.

"Well…" Creed decided to ask her within the couple of seconds of thinking she could put in.

"W-Well w-what," The clerk asked. Creed just gave a look of malice and indifference that it made the guy reach for another book and skim through it.

She didn't approve of his tactics he could see it but she floated next to him to see what he was reading, "well I wanted to do a lot of things, but I thought I tied up things nicely a while ago so," she looked down closer at the words of the book, "this one's weird, says that you would have to want me gone – feh, like it's your choice! Besides you want me gone more than anything in the world."

"More than anything!" he growled with anticipation and noticed the scent of fear heighten because he didn't want to dwell on the empty feelings when he growled out those words. His eyes darted left and right as he skimmed through the book yet the words burned into his mind like that part of him that felt indifferent towards violence. Part of him started to ache – a familiar part. Instinctually, he started to get the books on the ground.

"W-what are y-you doing," the clerk asked as Creed found pockets for the books he needed to carry and zipped them. He ignored the guy for a little while before he turned to him.

"Need them more than you stock boy," he took the one out of the guys hands and stuffed it in his pockets, "and times up fer me, an' I gotta go – ya didn't see me here and I ain't comin' back. If ya say anything," he popped out the adamantium nails and sliced down on an aisle as the books fell. The clerk gulped as he slowly nodded. Creed took this as a queue to get the books behind the guy and stuff it in his pocket. He looked over to the glaring eye of Jubilee and didn't care as he rationalized that this was all justified and he didn't kill to get the information. When he felt that he had enough he started to leave and as he opened the door he looked back, "Merry Christmas," Creed gave a toothy grin as he walked out the door laughing.

Glad that he bought a trench coat with various pockets that had buttons, Creed ran towards the hospital just to clear his mind.

"That wasn't very nice," Jubilee floated along with him as he just guffawed and hastened his steps, "hey! Are you listenin' ta me, I mean you coulda left they guy some money or something – it is Christmas," the voice of charity chided him as he smiled a bit.

"He ain't bruised or nothin' he can go home ta his family, while I get information ta get rid of ya – seems like a good deal ta me – besides ya don't want ta leave yer precious Iggy fer another second," he used that as a distraction for what really went through his mind as she gave him a flash of a disgusted look, but that turned into quiet acceptance.

The silence that ensued meant he had time to think and he didn't want that – he needed something (other than conversation) to go against this silence. That's when he heard the sirens – ambulance sirens. Usually, he would've dismissed it as regular the ambulance, but something bothered him as he quickened his pace and went through the short cuts and in a matter of no time he found himself in front of the hospital. He breathed heavily as the automatic doors opened and that's when he got a good whiff of something familiar – death. This type of death wasn't the sterile type that happened usually at the hospital, but rather a brutal and savage death – the kind he used to dish out.

"What…what!" Jubilee questioned hastily as she must've seen the look on his face of pure glee and fear. He squelched down the reaction to run up and see the boy and try and figure out what was going on here. He sniffed the air and found multiple smells, but none of them familiar to his own. If someone found out of his location, the person was definitely new.

He walked in slowly into the lobby to find blood and bodies everywhere. He knelt down looked as he examined a fallen nurse along a blood stained corridor. The body of the nurse looked as though she had been mauled to death. He noted the impressions of claw and teeth marks ripping flesh rather quickly. He slowly stood up to hear the sirens off in the distance – they didn't have much time left before more people would be involved. He wanted to tell Jubilee something but when he looked around she was gone, and he knew where she would be going.

He started to head off in that direction as quickly as possible as he noted the carnage around. Nurses, patients and the security there didn't stand a chance as they look shredded up and in the same pattern as before. He knew that the job was a one person one. He pressed the elevator door quickly and rapidly as he went inside and pushed over the bodies lying on the ground. As the elevator went up he noted that there where footprints that didn't even look human – so another feral could do this work.

That's when the though occurred to him. There weren't too many ferals in the world after his blood and only one that could possibly know of this position. A thrill of excitement rushed through him. Maybe the runt came back for a second round and as quickly as the excitement came the fear crept up even farther. The doors of the elevator opened as he rushed out quickly. He took one huge sniff in the air and he didn't smell Iggy's blood – not like that night.

"Oh my god," he heard her muffled voice through Iggy's door as he busted it down. The place looked worse than the outside as Iggy's doctor and nurses where mutilated beyond belief. The decorations put up where now tainted with red and so where the bed sheets and Iggy, though, was nowhere to be found.


	4. Wandering Eyes

Amber irises wandered about in a rapid fashion to digest this whole malformed scene. On the floor, Iggy's regular doctor – a nice elderly man who didn't give him lip after he gave the donation – and the nurse he told that transported the boy where lying face down on the ground in a pool of their own blood. Cautiously, he walked inside and sniffed the air for anything out of place and suspiciously there wasn't. His ability to decipher different smells failed him at a moment like this.

The specter checked the three same places over again as a sense of nervousness appeared on her face, "where is he? Where is he?" she started to mumble to herself in a repeated rhythm as this didn't help Creed much.

"Cut it out!" he yelled at her as his concentration faltered a bit. Who in their right mind would take the boy? Okay, a long list of names compiled in his mind quickly, but none of these looked like their handiwork except for two – Wild Child and Wolverine; however, Wild Child would rather leave the dead corpse of the boy rather than kidnap him so that left him with one conclusion, "the runt probably too him," he growled to himself as he looked for clues.

"No…No! He wouldn't do anything like this!" she quickly refused the thought, "besides what proof do you have, did you smell him in here?"

"Who else woulda slashed a whole hospital facility like the doctor huh?" he growled at her without directly answering the question. Sure he didn't smell the runt, but the senses do lie sometimes. He noticed that the windows where closed and upon further inspection he found a thin layer of dust underneath the window sill – so the runt didn't take the boy out the window, but if he remembered correctly, bloody tracks weren't out the front door, "go check all tha emergency exits if your friend took your precious Iggy out any other way," a bit of bile reached the end of his tongue as he ordered the specter.

She gave him a disdained look but reluctantly phased through the wall. He gritted his teeth as he walked out the room and that's when he could hear the sirens off in the distance, meaning he didn't have much time to get out of this quandary. Deciding what he had to figure next, he turned over the bodies to know how they died – all in the same way as the others. That's all he needed to know as he shook his head and headed out to look for more clues. He came out of the room and looked side-to-side and started to head to the back way when he saw something from the corner of his eye. He hesitated a bit as he looked down to see the same blood stained foot prints as before on the cold sterile tile. He recognized them from the elevator ride up – smudged, medium sized and didn't look human or animal. He quickly followed those tracks before they got cold.

Down the hall the sanguine colored footprints continued and finally led to a door for the stairs. He smelled Iggy and multiple foreign smells of blood and ran towards the metallic door. Opening it, he looked down to see the trail didn't lead down the stairs but towards the rail. the perpetrator must've jumped from the top all the way to the bottom – a good twenty five feet. The noise of the sirens started to become louder, he turned to the stairs the quickly and stealthly went down them. As he ran down the stairs he noted the scent of death, blood and Iggy becoming stronger and stronger. When he got to the bottom he once again saw the footprints lead to a door labeled 'boiler room'. He never looked into this part of the hospital before during his stay and prepared himself as he pushed the door opened.

A loud hiss of steam billowed out of damaged pipes as the darkness only allowed him to out heat signatures. He growled to himself with his rustiness. Even though he had low light vision, that didn't mean he could fight as well under these conditions. His opponent knew that a pitch-black room would be the perfect place to fight him and the word 'Logan' clicked in his mind. If the runt wanted a rematch, that wouldn't be a problem with him. He pressed his adamantium tipped nails to the bottom of his palm drawing blood as he made every move deliberate.

However, he didn't expect steam to come out of a certain pipe as the burning cloud impacted into his face and eyes. He growled out loud in pain as he tried to shield his face with his hands but to no avail. At this temperature and duration the steam hit his face, the force would permanently blind a normal human, but for him he would be blind for a couple of minutes. Long enough time for him to be taken out by the runt. He growled, as he had to use his other senses to get out of this situation.

Slow and hesitant footsteps started to approach him. From the sound of it, the blood stained sole crept from the left of him, "c'mon runt I know ya organized all this!" he yelled out as the footsteps ran from the direction he heard them come from. He had to goad the other to attack him head on and knowing the runt as long as he did, he knew the right buttons to push.

"Are ya a coward that can't face me head on? Do ya remember that time I let ya live those months ago? Wasn't that a whoot!" He referred to the easy fight he had with Wolverine a couple of weeks after Jubilee died, "I don't regret throwin' ya off a mountain, that was a weak pathetic fight, but what do ya expect from a weak pathetic poor excuse fer a man!" he yelled out loud and the hiss of steam came again, but not the footsteps.

He started to sweat a little as he had to add more kindling to the flame or else he'd be in a worse spot, "A man who likes ta do their own daughter figures, dontcha have enough already with that Japanese kid and Shadowpussy? That ain't yer Jubilee ya know, yer doin' a corpse necro!" he yelled out loud. Now he knew that would get to the runt. The video he saw showed the runt desperately in love with that fake and the runt could never take it when he made fun of the 'woman' he loved.

However, this didn't even cause a footstep or a 'snikt' just the silent eerie hum of water passing through pipes and the occasional steam hissing out. His vision started to clear up a bit but now he could only see blurs. From his obscured vision the misshapen form of something short and blonde appeared in the corner only to disappear in a second and Creed ran towards tha direction ready for a fight.

When he turned the corner he saw the exact familiar surroundings as before, "Usin' tha boy as a bait!" he yelled out as exasperation as he pounded on the nearest pipe, bending it a little, "I thought yer high and mighty boss taught ya not ta use a kid as a bait! Or doin' yer sidekick take away yer ethics!" His steps became heavier as he barely walked down the corridor. His vision still didn't clear yet as he had to calm down because if he didn't the runt could get to him. He had to stick to the plan, "Why are ya hiding behind tha boy for, huh! Can't ya take me on by yerself," he strained his throat yelling as his voice reverberated within the groaning pipes.

He heard actual footsteps now as they came from behind him. Slow and cautious footsteps that started to head towards him. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes, this could be the physical form of Jubilee walking towards him and he found himself in a flanked situation. So he growled as he prepared himself mentally for battle when his vision became covered with a bright white light.

"Freeze, sir!" a male voice called out to him as the light moved out of his way and a vision of cop stood holding a gun in one hand and a flashlight in the other stood in front of him. In any situation, somewhat blinded or not, he would be able to take this cop no problem; however, he had to worry about the other presence in the room. If he took on the cop, he'd be vulnerable to attack, "Put your hands up!" the cop ordered as he wasn't about to do that either, what a spot to be in. He heard the cop slowly approach him, "I said put your hands up!" he shakily asserted himself.

That's when Creed heard rapid footsteps from the other side. He didn't remember the runt running that fast, but that didn't matter because he turned his back to the cop and became ready for what would come. Through his blurred vision he clumsily swiped down at the thing only to see it dodge his swipe and jump over him. He didn't remember the runt being that agile and he awaited the counter attack.

"What is that! Aaagh –," he heard the cop splurt out as the familiar sound of slashing filled his ears. He turned around to see the cop being slashed up into little pieces and blood splattering everywhere. This couldn't be the runt, he would be after him not a cop. He blinked his eyes a couple of times then rubbed them and the blurred visions started to have a sharper edge. When he focused his amber eyes focused on the image in front of him.

A mess of blonde hair stained with the blood of many scents caked certain areas. He stood no less than to Creed's thigh as the crimson liquid trailed down the assailant's neck and down the hospital gown. The blonde haired tail wagged a little as the floppy ears perked a little. The assailant turned around slowly to look at Creed. He stood there with a torn up blood stained hospital gown and his face had an eerie smile on it. The assailant tilted his head a little as his amber left eye and blue right eye stared into the soul of Creed wanting something – acceptance for doing something good.

Creed furrowed his brows as he looked down at the familiar figure, "Iggy?" he asked slowly as he took a step back in amazement. So his blood did cure the boy – he didn't have a doubt. The pride he had swelled a bit knowing that his blood could do that. Like if the kid knew what he was thinking, the smile grew wider as he ran quickly for Creeds eyes to follow and jumped towards the tall blonde feral. Creed didn't know how to react as he found himself losing his balance and falling onto his back due to the boys momentum. The boy just pinned him down and then, for Creed, everything started to connect: the slashing, the small smudged footprints and having no familiar scents around, "ya did all this?" he asked curiously as something wet slimed up his cheek. Creed automatically tore the boy off him and threw him to the ground, "Hey! What the Hell is wrong with ya?" Creed loud voice rumbled the pipes a bit as he wiped the remnants of the lick off as the boy looked frightened and ran away from him.

That felt wrong on so many levels and he wondered what was up with the boy. He growled a little and shook his head then he looked over at the shredded cop and that confirmed his suspicions – the boy killed all of them; however, the boy didn't try to kill him. With that train of thought in mind he could only come up with one conclusion, the blood he infused the boy cured him and eventually made the boy lose his humanity. If this was true, the boy acted like a feral and in order to get him, he had to act a little bit differently.

"Boy," Creed called out in a nice musical tone as his words echoed down the hallway, "Boy?" he called out again as he walked the trail that the boy went. Tracking the boy wouldn't be a problem, he just didn't want to waste more time. If the cops where here then they'd be tracking him down and it'd be harder for them to escape.

A jet of steam blew off in front of him as he wondered how far and deep this passage would go; the answer came when the steam subsided. The boy had his back towards him as Creed heard the boy sniffle a bit. After all this carnage, the boy had the nerve to sniffle. Creed rolled his eyes as he slowly approached the one turned away from him, "Hey," he called out softly trying not to startle the other.

The boy then turned around with something in his mouth – a plastic toy gun. On the ground lay, ripped plastic and shreds of gift wrapping, but from the looks of it, the gun looked in decent condition in the bloodied mouth. In all this confusion, Creed forgot the present and now didn't know what to do about this gesture. He slowly knelt down in front of the boy who stood perfectly still.

The killing spree in the hospital, the revitalization of the boy through his blood and the gift that the boy had kept, these actions tugged a little on his metaphysical heart. He looked around cautiously the reached out a bit and ruffled the hair of the other, "Yer goin' ta be one fun protégé," he smirked evilly as Iggy wagged his tail. Creed slowly got up and motioned his way to the exit, "C'mon boy, we gotta get ya otta here!" he ordered in a gruff yet fair tone as he heard the boy follow.

Once he opened the door, more bright lights blinded his face. He sniffed a little – maybe around four to five policemen stood in his way. He'd have to take them out quick before they could call for backup; however, a cop could say freeze he felt something past by him and the death groans of all the men entered his ear drums. Creed smirked as he giggled – he knew what happened. The flashlights lay on the ground as Creed just ran up the stairs. He didn't look back as he heard accompanying footsteps behind him – he had to find the best way out of here without going back on the contract he had with Jubilee – although he would get a kick out of seeing her face when she knew that the boy killed all these people.

Back to the business at hand, the layout of this two-story hospital had two emergency exits, an entrance and an underground garage. Now which who'd be the lucky ones to block him and boys exit? When he took another step she appeared in front of him with a concerned look on her face.

"No sign of the boy anywhere, cops are at every posted at every exit and – why is there a toy gun in Iggy's mouth and he's all covered in blood," all of her yapping came as she saw it. Crossing her arms, the look Jubilee gave could burn holes in weaker beings, but for Creed he became used to them. Iggy on the other hand looked at the specter and started to wag his tail confirming he existence.

"Long explanation Jubilee, ain't got the time ta talk now – did ya find another way out or do we go out blazin'," he gave her the options and he could actually see her swallowing her pride as she floated up towards the door mumbling to herself as she phased through it. Creed took this opportunity to check behind him to see the boy drooling a bit and having an off distance stare. Creed just turned his head back towards the way Jubilee exited.

He saw her phase back through the door as she gave him that glare again, "you are going to tell me what is going on after I get you out of here," she didn't even wait for his response as she floated out the door. He didn't have a choice but follow and wherever he went. He opened the door slowly to find no one in sight. Jubilee floated next to him, "this way," she whispered. She led the way through empty corridors as the sirens blared throughout the darkened hospital. She looked both ways, "Hide," she warned in a hushed tone as he slowly opened an adjacent door and making sure the boy followed he closed the door – a janitorial closet, how great. He heard footsteps. The sound of a couple of cops trudging though the scene came and went. Jubilee then appeared and nudged her head to the door and then Creed opened the door slowly.

From his knowledge, he knew that the exit wasn't far from here, "all right, from here on out we –," Jubilee started to whisper when something clicked in his mind.

"Why are ya whisperin' yer dead, no one can hear you but the boy n' me," he whispered back with a smirk as Jubilee gave him a dead stare.

"Freeze!" A voice came from the distance. Creed turned around quickly as he knew the routine, but he didn't know his slow actions would trigger off the series of events. The startled cop pulled the trigger that lead to a 45. magnum bullet to come towards him. Within that split second where the sound deafened him a bit and the flash of gunpowder blinded him – he thought how good it'd be to feel the bullet rip through his flesh; however, that sensation didn't come but another force did hit him. The boy flew backwards from the force of the shot and landed on his chest. He got him as he didn't worry at all, his blood cured him and made him better, but the wound would heal in no time.

However, the next thing he knew was that he was ontop of the cop that fired the bullet and started slashing away till he himself was a bloody mess. He didn't know why he did it and by the look on Jubilee's face, she didn't know why either. He decided to resolve this all later as he scooped up the boy he busted open the exit, sounding off the alarm and started to run. He knew the perfect escape route that'd lead to the isolation of the forest, but it'd take him a while at this speed. Looking down, the boy continued to bleed.


	5. The World Turned Silent

The world turned silent when Iggy fell over in a pool of his own blood. Yes, Victor could hear the bullets pass to the side of him, or feel the bullets pierce through him for him only to recover. Yes, he could hear Jubilee's voice telling him something – maybe for him to go and take the boy with him. All Victor could think about was Sabretooth – the vicious killer who made people suffer, no matter how innocent or guilty the man, woman or child was. And Sabretooth was not beholden to no contracts with no ghosts of the dead – no – Sabretooth lived to dig his claws through bullet proof vests and helmets to run through a hallway of screams and red to inflict pain to gain freedom.

He found himself out side, the boy limp under one arm and the other arm dripping with blood – a sight paled by floodlights on him above and in front of him. The light temporarily blinded him, the tranquilizers numbed him, and in the night he looked up to see snow – a hazy night which only a few days ago he remembered being calm. He remembered being calm.

This warmth over him, was he taken over again. Did she enter his body like a still living husk to puppet his movements. He awaited the memories. Maybe some childhood memory where he could re-experience teenage angst or teenage love. Maybe some memory of her being an adult where she had to deal with things for the first time; meanwhile, how many times did he experience: heartbreak, death of a friend/enemy, or some twisted helix of both in one.

Yet the memories didn't come. The room he must've been in must be warm. He didn't feel the any form of liquid cake onto his skin. He wanted to open his eyes, but these questions ran through his mind first: Who would he have to serve this time? How long until he would have to betray his "master" until he was free? How long would it be until he would be captured again – this cycle.

"Victor, shouldn't you drop the charade, I know that you are awake."

"So I work fer you again Mags," Sabretooth opened his eyes slowly. He didn't feel restrained as he sat up. He looked up and around. He wasn't in a cell. He was in a room. Not a hospital – the room had no windows and didn't smell sterile. This place was something like a room found in a middle class home – what was missing was portraits, trophies, a scent – anything that would make this room seem it belonged to someone. And in the corner of this vanilla middle class room was the specter of Jubilee. He tried reading the expression on her face.

"Not necessarily Victor," Magneto interrupted his thoughts. Sabretooth turned his head to him to check any sort of movement or any tell; however, Magneto sat next to his bed in a white shirt and black pants without even flinching as though he was in no danger whatsoever. Sabretooth then moved his head to where Jubilee was. She was gone probably with the boy. Magneto looked as though he was ready to react to whatever Sabretooth would say next. But Sabretooth just sighed as he went lay back down. This was not the reaction Magneto wanted – he presumed.

"Ya know me Mags, it doesn't matter who you're working for, as long as I get a paycheck at the end of the day, or immunity, or whatever type of payment I get after I get the target ya want me to get." Sabretooth noted how the light fixture above him looked a bit too generic.

"We have the boy you were protecting-"

"He's fine," Sabretooth interrupted Magneto because he knew the routine. If he didn't go along the boy would get hurt. If he went along, there was no guarantee the boy would be okay. He went through a summer dealing with this type of situation, "Who is this 'we'?" Sabretooth switched the subject.

And then he smelled him, no matter how many baths in some government run bathroom that man took he would always smell like the bottom of the earth.

"You're looking well as expected Creed."

"Thanks Fury, I've never been to this wing of S.H.I.E.L.D. carrier – so I'm guessin' I'm not a prisoner then and ya don't think me a threat." Sabretooth sat up and saw Fury walk to the foot of his bed. From the corner of his eye he saw Jubilee phase in from the wall and stand next to Fury. The boy was probably in the room behind that wall and by the looks of Jubilee's face she looked angry. She nodded. He nodded. Something that Fury and Magneto noticed, and Fury cleared his throat.

"You did a number on my boys, but they're all right – wounds like that would look like a wild animal defending itself." Fury's statement should've made Sabretooth angry – or at least a little perturbed. He felt no psychic intrusions or anything. He stared at Jubilee the entire time, just watching her watching him. He smirked a bit (which he noted that caught Magneto more off guard than Fury), the deal was still in place.

"You're so lucky," Jubilee said and turned her head to the side in disbelief. Her voice, something he hadn't heard in a long time, made him smirk even wider.

"I don't want to know what goes through your twisted head Creed, but currently we need your abilities." Creed smelled the truth off of Fury.

"I am the best at what I do, what happened to the runt – get all twitterpated with that Asian chick – what's her name again – Jubs...Jugs...Julian..."

"Jubilation Lee, yes, she is part of the problem," Magneto said matter of fact. Jubilee didn't pay attention to Sabretooth's goading, Jubilee to stared at Magneto and leaning a bit to hear more, "Xavier..." he lingered off.

"Heh," Sabretooth huffed, "what about baldy? I thought he kept the runt a tight leash?"

Silence in the room didn't make Sabretooth feel uneasy. Things fit together now. Something is wrong with the X-Men and it's a big problem, so why not call upon the Brotherhood to deal with them. Great, bust some heads and move on to the next plan. Get rid of the boy and Jubilee. Get rid of them. And he would have his old lifestyle back. He would get rid of them. He would. Everything would be as it was. As it was before – before.

An audible computer beep echoed in the room. Fury backed up to wall and tapped on it. A flood of images appeared on the screen. Some faces Sabretooth remembered, that Latino guy that hung out with Jubilee, Skin, was on the screen along with codenames like Cypher, Synch, Mondo, Gaia, Banshee, and Jubilee herself. Sabretooth recognized a couple of other names – Quicksilver and Polaris – probably why Magneto was cooperating with anyone non-homo-superior at all.

"What do all these people have in common -."

"They have crappy codenames – how does a name like 'Mondo' strike fear into supervillains," Sabretooth called out in a snarky tone. Jubilee paid no mind to what he said and looked at the names of the screen.

"These are all mutants who died but they're resurrected," Fury touched the wall and slides kept popping up and of their actions – the usual like of destroying property in blazes and rubble.

"So they're resurrected, who gives a damn – I died, went to Hell, came back, y'know the whole deal – so did most of the X-men there – Hell that's what makes Jean so hot, I can choke her out and still she'd be coming back for more," Sabretooth loudly insulted the red head, but only Magneto acknowledged his response with slight disdain. Jubilee continued to look at the slides, but her expression changed a bit.

"Wait..." she started to say, she bobbed her body through so she could see the places. When Fury expanded the images, she took a step back, "these places...churches...graveyards."

"Normally, doing these kinds of destruction look random, but actually they are looking for something. Also, every one of these revived mutants have red eyes and this tattoo." The slides changed to the red eyes from various members. And a tattoo – a black twist that spiraled to be claws for a hand. The tattoos appeared in different places of the people shown – on the arm, but for Jubilee, the tattoo was slightly shown on her hip. Jubilee turned away from her own image, but when Sabretooth saw the tattoos, he knew. He growled.

"That's..."

"There are many dimensions of Hell, and many denizens who call themselves Satan – yet this design comes from one particular demon that you might know." The voice came from the doorway, a man who looked like a ridiculous magician with that red robe, that graying hair to the sides of his head, and especially the foppish blue shirt.

"I didn't get his name when I tortured him when I broke free, but when I was stuck in Hell, he'd change his name ta Satan, or Devil, or Beelzebub, whatever name he wanted me to call him." Those memories Sabretooth tried to keep down, since it'd bring up the fact that he died at the hands of the runt.

"So you see why we saved you," Fury interjected the nostalgia.

"Saved – heh, you were the one who shot me and the boy up – how is that saving?" Sabretooth retorted, and then Fury changed the slide to the view of the X-Mansion where almost everyone had that mark, those eyes.

"They stopped chasing you and we don't know why. But I'm sure they would have got you eventually. Attacking the X-Mansion would be suicide for all involved, and dealing with one of them has caused some serious injuries, and an army vs. army standoff would bring national attention when we minimized coverage of this as much as possible since there have been no fatalities," Fury noted.

"And they don't want the coverage either," Magneto said, "They're just sending a message to those who would know about this activity. But what is the message? Strange, have you found something in your research?"

Sabretooth noticed how the caped man glanced at the slides on the wall, but not focusing on them. Rather for a split second, Sabretooth thought that this Strange fellow was staring at Jubilee. So far, only the boy and he could see her. No, this guy wouldn't be able to see her.

"You're the one that said we needed to save this -," Fury thumbed towards a slowly rising Sabretooth. If he couldn't see her then why is he taking a step closer to the wall – to the wall where Jubilee looked for clues within the collection of images. He must need to see the slides closer or there's some data on the wall. Something to point out.

"In my research, it stated that there needed to be a light, a guide, a source chained together – of course I assumed," Strange started to trail off as he started to shift a little bit as though to approach her. No, the angle – there will be a particular slide he would point out, "I assumed that our – person – was this Victor Creed since the only other person who could go through Hell and back would be James Howlett who was the one went to hell and defeated this devil and came back. But he's not the one."

Strange went up to the wall and stood right next to her – Sabretooth was right – see pointing out a slide, "Excuse me Fury, can you go back a couple of slide, who was the most recently deceased who is now alive?"

Fury went up to the wall and pressed certain areas and that's when Jubilee's name and complete profile came up.

"Jubilation Lee," Strange said with slight bewilderment as though there was a revelation in his whisper, "I wonder," Strange then turned his head in her direction. It took Jubilee a moment to realize that eyes were on her – from both from Strange and Sabretooth. So when she turned to see him, they were basically eye to eye.

"My dear, I've misread something, but it's clear and foggy at the same time. Are you the source or are you the light?" Strange asked her. Then Strange started chanting in a low tone - something indiscernible, something that Sabretooth didn't care about understanding. Sabretooth only wanted to understand the glow from Strange's hand. Why was he raising it up? Why was he raising it up as though to caress her check? What is he going to do to her? What is going to happen to her? She – this is it?

And from his bed, he let the instinct inside him move him – move him to lunge at what the light might do. What the light might take away from him.


End file.
